Any Idiot
by Lela-of-Bast
Summary: As the king, Jonathan takes on a new responsibility with disastrous outcome. With Gary, Raoul, and Alanna to witness, Jonathan cannot escape teasing. Oneshot, set after Lioness Rampant.


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**Any Idiot  
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Jonathan slipped into the bedchamber that he shared with his heavily pregnant wife. Jon had been in Port Caynn for a week, attending a festival that culminated in the christening of two new ships for the Royal Navy of Tortall.

Thayet was due to deliver their first child in just a few days, and had stayed behind to rest. When she saw Jon, Thayet smiled brightly from the bed.

"Hello my dear," she said, holding out her arms for a hug. Halfheartedly, Jonathan leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, then patted her belly. He then proceeded to sink onto the bed beside her, kicking off his boots.

"Long week?" Thayet asked, picking up the tiny blue tunic that she was embroidering.

"I wouldn't say long exactly," a voice said from the doorway. Sirs Alanna, Gary, and Raoul nodded their greetings to the queen.

"More like… hot," Gary continued.

"Burning?" Alanna suggested.

"Searing is more like it," Gary supplied.

"Boiling?" Raoul tried.

"Sizzling?" Alanna proposed.

"Scorching," Raoul said definitely. "It was scorching."

"I don't understand," Thayet said. "I thought you just went for the festival."

"Don't you three have anything better to do than confuse my queen?" Jonathan asked, face turning red. Gary just shook his head.

"Nope," Raoul admitted shamelessly.

"George won't be here for three days," Alanna said in excuse, plopping into a chair.

"We just thought that perhaps your queen would enjoy an unbiased and therefore unabridged account of the week's activities," Gary explained.

"Particularly the activities of this morning," Raoul explained.

"Please sit down," Thayet said to the two big knights. "I'm having enough trouble following this conversation; I don't need to be dizzy from looking up at you."

Raoul grinned, settling himself in another chair. Gary perched on the arm of Alanna's seat. Jonathan rolled onto his side, as if to pretend to sleep.

"Jon, what happened?" Thayet asked, pulling him back up.

"Dear cousin Jonny had a little trouble at the christening of our new warships," Gary said.

"How could you have trouble with that?" Thayet asked. "Any idiot can hit a boat with a bottle!"

Raoul snickered.

"You would think so," Alanna said, trying to hold back laughter. "But Our Royal Highness had some difficulty with his hand-eye coordination."

"Or his foot-robe coordination," Raoul murmured.

"You might save yourself some embarrassment if you tell me what happened yourself," Thayet said to her husband.

"What's to tell?" Jonathan said, exasperated. "When I threw the bottle the boat caught on fire."

"Fire?" Thayet said, looking to the other men in the room. Raoul nodded.

"Boom," he said. Alanna laughed helplessly.

"A torch fell and ignited the alcohol that was in the bottle," she said.

"Big fire," Gary said. "Lots of panicking, running, screaming, etc."

"Boom?" Thayet repeated. "Wait- why did you throw the bottle? You could have hit it gently."

"Oh, he didn't exactly throw it," Raoul said. "It flew out of his hands when he stepped on and tripped over the fancy red cape his officials made him wear."

"Can we talk about something else?" Jonathan said, rolling over once more.

"No," Thayet said. "Did the boat sink?"

"Kind of," Jon hedged.

"How can a boat 'kind of' sink? It's like saying I'm 'kind of' pregnant." Thayet rubbed her large belly.

"Oh, the ship is grounded pretty well. It's hard for a warship to sink in shallow water. We have a new sort of smoky, charred… island in the bay at Port Caynn," Gary said, sending his companions into new fits of laughter.

"It's really not funny," Jonathan said. "I destroyed a very expensive ship that took nearly a year to build and was going to advance our navy to superiority." They stopped laughing.

"You're right, Jon," Gary said. "It's not right for us to find so much amusement in your distress. We apologize."

The room got quiet. Thayet looked at the others. Their sheepish looks were faux; there was plenty of hidden mirth in their eyes. She turned to Jon. He rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.

Raoul chuckled.

"Did you see the look on Sir Myles's face?" Alanna and Gary laughed openly. Thayet even laughed at Alanna's impression of her adopted father's surprise.

"You're not helping my dear," Jonathan said, jaw clenched.

"Just one more question, and I'll lay the matter to rest," Thayet compromised.

"Fine," Jon sighed. The three knights got quiet to hear Thayet's words.

"Did you sink the other boat too?"

Peals of laughter came from their friends. Jonathan's mood lightened a little.

"No one would let me near it," he said.

"I'm sure that you'll never be asked to christen anything again," Gary said, making to leave.

"That was a pretty clever way to get out of a chore," Thayet agreed.

"Well you did prove one thing today, Jonathan," Alanna said.

"What?" Jonathan asked warily.

"You aren't just any idiot," she finished.

"You're a Royal Idiot," Raoul added, ducking out the door. One Jonathan's boots caught him in the back.

"Where was your aim when you threw that bottle?" Alanna teased, scurrying after Gary and Raoul.

Jonathan sighed again.

"Poor Jonathan," Thayet said, holding out her arms so he could snuggle into her lap. Jonathan buried his face in the blanket around her belly.

"It was really bad," he mumbled.

"Well, you live and learn," Thayet said, stroking his hair. "Now let's go to bed. You can tell me about the rest of your week in the morning."

Jonathan reached over to the candle that lit the room.

"Better let me," Thayet said, taking the light from him. "You've burned down enough for one day."

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**Author's Note  
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This little story was inspired by a line in Shrek the Third. The plot bunny bit me when I watched it one day, and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. I borrowed a quote from Artie. I hope you enjoyed it. :D

Disclaimer- Tammy is to Pen as Alanna is to Sword. Me is to Pen as Joren is to Jolly.


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